


Life In Motion (or: How Nick Learns To Be Okay With Being Weak)

by systematichaos (rainbowsneakers)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Real names used, basically Nick is a polyam mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29080740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowsneakers/pseuds/systematichaos
Summary: Sapnap is a well-known Minecraft creator, along with his friend Dream. Behind the screen, though, and the facade, is scared nineteen-year-old Nick, who's given up everything he could have become to move to Florida with Dream, known to him as 21-year-old Clay. It's harder to hide his self-proclaimed weaknesses when there's no longer half a country between the best friends of almost a decade, and in his desperation to hide his blooming feelings for Clay, he turns to a new friend: Karl Jacobs, a newer member of their Minecraft group and someone who appeals to Nick for reasons he can't quite put a finger on.(I am using real names for this fic for my own sake and for not having to fuck up 'sapnap' every time I write it. Do *not* send this to CC's, I will remove it if informed they are uncomfortable.)There is now a twitter for this story: https://twitter.com/lifeinmotionfic
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Karl Jacobs, Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Karl Jacobs, Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Karlnap - Relationship
Comments: 31
Kudos: 142





	1. House Arrest Till Trial Date (Or: Living Together)

Eight years. That's a long friendship, Nick figures, rolling over in his bed lazily. His orange tabby, Mogwai, mewls in irritation from the floor, and Lilly, small and pale, gives her best imitation of her older sibling. Cash, a small white dog, snores at the foot of the bed.

"Alright, alright, I'll feed you, grumpy." The teenager laughs, his voice low and soft as he slides out of bed, bare feet cold against the threadbare carpet, kneeling to pet both felines before making their bowls of food, shaking the kibble bag so Cash comes padding in as well for his breakfast.

Strong, former-linebacker shoulders roll back in their sockets, and the streamer glances at the boxes littering his living room. A sigh leaves his lips, and brown eyes close briefly at the thought of having to pack up. He'll be leaving soon, things already packed and waiting to be tetris-ed away into the moving truck rented for later today.

Where is he going? Florida, of course, to finally meet up with the boy he's been friends with for the past eight years. Clay's smile sticks briefly in his mind, green eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief and dark blond hair sticking up in every direction. That smile makes Nick's heart race, and he shakes his head quickly, scratching the thoughts from his head like a damn Etch-A-Sketch.

That's enough of that.

The animals are fed, his sisters on their way to his home to animal-sit for the next month. He and Clay are renting a house to see if living together full time is a good idea.... and Nick prays briefly to whatever might exist that it works out well.

It'll be hell on his heart, but being close might not be so bad after all.

The drive is almost fourteen hours long, he's on a discord call with a friend the whole time, except for the four hours he falls asleep in the parking lot of a gas station not 150 miles from Clay's.... no, his and Clay's.... rented home.

A slow, deep breath as he wakes, stretches sore muscles from sitting in the van the whole time. Another breath, this one shaky, meant to calm uneasy nerves and stomach. 

He drives.

He pulls into the driveway, swallowing hard as he steps down from the truck's cab and pads uneasily to the door, knocking with the knuckle of one finger and bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet.

The door swings open to that smile he's known for years. Clay, in the flesh, standing right in front of him. Shirt loose on an athletic body, shorts and bare feet as he steps forward to gather Nick into his arms.

"I can't believe we're doing this."


	2. Once I Rose Above The Noise And Confusion (Or: Self Exploration)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick arrives at his new temporary home and gets settled in.

"We're doing this," Nick whispers back, and his voice is muffled by his face being buried in Clay's shoulder. Clay's body is warm against his own, Floridian skin a shade darker than his own Texan-sunburn-turned-tan. He pulls away, swallows thickly, and locks eyes with the other former football player: There are freckles close to Clay's eyes, and Nick feels his heart skip a beat. 

_ Fuck. _

Emerald gazes into amber, and Clay's smile turns to a smirk. "Well? Are you coming in? You live here too, dumbass." He pulls away from the hug, moving to start taking boxes from the van and take them into the house. Something in the very back of Nick's mind goes blank at the sight of Clay's muscles rolling like thunderstorms waiting to be born, voice low like the wind blowing rain against his body, cooling him despite the Orlando heat.

He shakes his head again: The Rubik's Cube in his brain unscrambles itself. The butterflies in his stomach flutter just that little bit faster as he goes to help Clay bring the boxes inside. Every so often, their skin brushes, and his muscles tense like he's being shocked.

This feeling can't be good.

He's unpacking about an hour later, Clay out of the house getting groceries, when it hits him: That's a crush. Those butterflies, the skipping heart, the way he notices everything about his almost lifelong friend. It's a typical crush, but in all of his nineteen years, he'd never experienced this  _ level _ of crush. Not on another male, at least... This is going to take some thinking over.

Thinking about these things is difficult for Nick. He leans on the bedframe, the wood smooth and cool against his back, eyes closed while he wracks his brain to figure out what in the unholy  _ fuck _ is going on with his feelings.

Clay's smile makes his heart skip. Skin contact burns pleasantly, the mere memory of eye contact takes away his breath. He lets the other's name roll on his tongue.

"Clay."

His breath seems to catch, a small smile on his lips as the word passes them, softer than a Texas breeze, smoother than silk, a pleasant taste left on the back of his tongue like the end of a Honeycrisp apple, sweet and tart all at once. 

It hits him why the other has always gone by "Dream" online... he's certainly in Nick's own dreams often, and falling into those memories feels like the perfect bed, blankets warm and heavy over an exhausted body, the mattress worn and soft, cradling his five-ten body easily. Flashes of the last eight years play on a flickering movie reel, animated blocks and late-night calls, their voices becoming heavier and thicker with sleep as the nights wore on. The way Clay's lashes, doll-like and thick, flutter against his cheekbones as he drifts into sleep, chest rising and falling evenly, as though he's never had a care in the world.

Absorbed in his own thoughts as he is, Nick barely hears the door open, much less hears Patches mewl at her owner as Clay returns to the house.


	3. This Mental Battlezone (Or: Figuring It Out)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It finally sets in.
> 
> ****TW: This chapter contains description of a panic/anxiety attack. Please be warned. I will mark the section with ---- before and after to denote.****

When Clay comes home, Nick is nowhere to be seen. Patches, however, is eager to greet her human, meowing and rubbing against his legs like the affectionate kitten she's always been. 

"Hey, girl." Clay sighs, and he puts down the bags to kneel and scratch behind his cat's ears. She's always reacted a bit like a dog to being pet, and he finds it funny and sweet, as though he'd adopted a fox instead of a cat that Valentine's Day.

Patches gives her signature squeak to signal the end of petting time, and obediently, Clay rises and grabs the bags, putting them away in cabinets and fridge as he thinks. Where could Nick have gotten to? The younger couldn't have gone too far, really, so it was likely that he was...

"Upstairs. Clay, you fucking moron."

He takes stairs two at a time like running bleachers, the movements still ingrained in him to move quickly as though his high school coach was on his ass. Nick's door is closed in front of him, and keen ears pick up the vague sound of shuddering breath, like dropping into cold water on a ninety-six-degree day. 

"Nick?" Blond brows furrow in confusion, concern. Green eyes go from shining to nervous, fingers tap shakily on the thin wood separating the two men. They're not states apart anymore, Clay thinks to himself. This could be a chance to actually soothe one of Nick's rare anxiety attacks, show the younger streamer that he  _ really is _ always going to be there.

\----

No response. The door is unlocked, and Clay swallows hard. He decides impulsively to take the risk of his friend being upset with him, and pushes the door open, settling on his knees at Nick's side, the younger trembling like a leaf in a fucking tornado.

He's only ever seen the aftermath: Nick metaphorically sewing himself back up without anesthetic, raw wounds hissing, angry and red, as they're pushed under the surface of thin skin for another day, another time. But now he's here, watching near helplessly as his best friend's own brain flays him alive, leaving him open and hurting, tears dripping down his face like he's witnessed his own death.

"Nick?" He tries again, voice softer, betraying his age and showing only concern for the young man next to him. His hand touches a shaking, broad shoulder: Nick flinches under the touch. Otherwise, he doesn't move. Clay's concern grows, but then it catches up to him. This is Nick's anxiety, rearing its ugly head over something that makes his friend feel unreal, detached from his own body.

"Grounding. We've done this." He voices, a little stronger now that he knows his plan. His hand moves, gentle and soft, to the younger man's back, fingers playing over a surprisingly prominent spine. "Nick. Panda, I need you to listen to me. Breathe in for me?" He counts to four as Nick inhales, shaky but able to listen at the very least. "Good, I'm proud of you. Breathe out, same count." The four-count is tapped into his back, and Clay gives the smallest smile.

"Focus on your left hand for me. Feel your energy? It's all over the room, buddy. Bring it in, nice and easy. I know you're scared, and that's okay, but you don't have to be scared here. It's just me, Nick, just Clay. Move your focus to your right hand. Good job."

\----

As he narrates, he notices Nick's breathing start to calm. It's a start, and he knows it isn't over by a long shot, but each step is good. Eventually, the younger streamer speaks, voice broken and barely audible.

"I know it's you, Clay. I think that's the problem."


	4. For Fear Of Rejection (Or: Moving On?)

"I know it's you, Clay. I think that's the problem."

The words stung leaving his throat, shattered glass and ashes as they fell to the carpeted floor. Clay blinked in response, then simply wrapped Nick in his arms. The younger curled reluctantly into the touch, sobs subsiding for now. 

Now was the sewing-up bit.

"Explain how I'm the problem?" Clay whispered, no venom or malice in his voice, simply sweet curiosity, sunshine to the rain cloud that had covered Nick for the past hour or so.

"Because I used to be so strong until I met you. I never used to break down until you broke me down like this." 

It was true. Nick's first anxiety attack had been on the phone with Clay late one summer evening.

They'd been chatting about some goofy middle school dance when Nick's breathing caught. Clay was just as concerned at fourteen as he was now at 21, listening to the barely-caught breaths and concealed sobbing as his then-new friend squeaked out his fears about the new school he'd be in the next year.

Back then it was hard enough to hear Nick's terrified voice. Now? Now it hurt even more, and Nick seemed to notice.

"I still want to be here. I want to live with you. I think I just need to get used to you being... I guess real. A physical human being I can actually come to instead of calling or texting."

A forced smile came to chapped lips. Its twin, just as forced, came to Clay's face as well, and he squeezed Nick into his chest briefly. Nick tensed, but both of them ignored it.

Ignoring felt like the best course of action right now.

Clay climbed to his feet first, much more steady as he stood to his full six-foot-three. He reached a hand down, and as Nick took it, a spark shuddered, unspoken, through each of them.

The younger was swaying on his feet slightly, the imbalance of anxiety taking a physical toll on him. "I'm gonna check on the SMP." He murmured, and Clay nodded, leaving his friend to do just that.

Setup ready, Nick booted up his computer, hopping into Minecraft the moment he could. The blocky visuals comforted his vision, and a name caught his eye in the Discord server used for their well-known games: Karl Jacobs.

Might as well say hello, right?


	5. Just Go, Run Away (Or: Friendship)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl's appearance.

Karl hadn't been in the server too terribly long, honestly, but he and Nick had quickly gotten along. It doesn't take long for Nick's mouse to hover over the voice channel, clicking him into the call without a second thought.

"Hey, Karl!" He forces that smile back onto his face, and apparently the other streamer sees nothing wrong, because Nick can almost hear the way Karl's smile lights up his entire face, eyes shimmering with the happiness of hearing a friend.

"Nick! Hey, how was your drive? You get a little sleep finally?"

The other's voice warms up the last of his heart, anxiety-fuelled breaths finally slowing to nearly-normal. The smile is less forced as they talk, Nick finds. It's easy, with Karl, finding the little gems of happiness that can overpower the darkest rain storms. Frankly, there's been a lot of darkness and storms in his life lately, and he can't help pouring his heart out to the older streamer as they chat, hopping around the blocky world and swinging pixelated swords at fantasy mobs. 

"...and I told him I think he might be the problem..." 

"Oh... Nick, I don't think Clay's the problem at all."

"Explain?"

Karl takes a soft breath, shaking his head fondly, though the younger streamer can't see it. His smile is soft in his voice when he speaks again. "It's okay to have feelings for friends, Nick. Just don't let them get in the way of the friendship. That's much easier said than done, and I know that. I'm dealing with it too."

His voice wavers the smallest bit, lip caught in his teeth briefly.

"I'm dealing with liking you, Nick... but you'd never know until I said something."

Nick freezes. His block character goes still, and he's thankful briefly that it's daytime in the game, so no mobs can come at him as he struggles to find words.

"Me?" He manages out, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The tightness in his chest that had receded came back slightly, and his eyes unfocused. "Karl, you... you don't mean that, it's just me. Why would anyone like me, why would  _ you _ like me?"

"Nick. You're an amazing person, even when you don't see it. You're always at my side when I need you, no matter what. I can be myself with you, you sacrifice and work so hard, without even realizing that you are. Because when things don’t go as planned, you roll with it, instead of getting stressed. You make me feel special, you know the secret little things that cheer me up. You actually  _ try _ to cheer me up... there's so many things about you, Nick. I can't believe I'm the first person to tell you this."


	6. I'm The Second In Command (Or: Trying To Be Strong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relationship blooms.

"I can't believe I'm the first person to tell you this."

Nick swallows hard. Karl's words have earnest truth behind them, and he can hear it. It stings his heart in the same way Clay's smile does.

"I need to research something," Nick whispers, and he closes Minecraft, then removes himself from the call, tapping away on his keyboard with a flurry of clicking noises.

_ I think I like two different people? _

_ Am I bisexual? _

_ Am I gay? _

Falling down the rabbit hole of research into sexuality doesn't take long, he finds. New words crowd his vision: "polyamorous", "biromantic", "queerplatonic". That last one certainly doesn't sound like him, he thinks with a low laugh. He knows well how easily Clay's voice or Karl's laugh can swirl fire into his blood, making his whole body flush pink.

Polyamorous, though. He likes the sound of that. It plays well on his tongue, rolls in his mouth like sour candy. It sounds right, he decides, taking a sip of water from the bottle on his desk. It hits him then how  _ late _ it's gotten, realizing he can vaguely hear Clay streaming from a few doors away.

A message flits from his fingertips to Karl's DMs, first. He'll deal with Clay later.

**_ "Can we vc? I want to talk about what you said to me earlier tonight, and I'm sorry I left the call so suddenly." _ **

The instant reply is Discord ringing in his headphones, Karl's voice still somehow cheery as he picks up. 

"Nick! What was it you wanted to talk about, again? I said a lot earlier tonight."

A pale pink dusts Nick's cheekbones as he speaks, voice a little shaky. "I think I might be polyamorous? I have... such strong feelings for Clay, but I can feel those same things for you at the same time."

His fingers shake on his mouse and keyboard, resting in his natural gaming position even as his legs bounce anxiously under the desk, shoulder rolling back nervously, lip torn up by teeth.

"I just don't know how this would work... But I want to be with you, Karl."

The older streamer seems to let out a sweet sigh of relief at the words.

"I was really hoping you'd say that, Nick... I've had feelings for you for a while, and it'll be nice to finally call you mine... i-if that's okay! I don't wanna push anything on you, I'd just really like to finally call you my boyfriend, even if it's just between the two of us. We don't need to put this out anywhere or anything like that, I just. I'd be thrilled to be yours."

A smile comes, unbidden, to Nick's face.

"I'm still too scared to put it out there... but I'd love to call you my boyfriend, Karl. You know this'll be my first relationship with a guy, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, it's not too different from dating girls."

"With you? I think I'm okay with different."


	7. Gonna Say True Love Is Just A Good Bad Joke (Or: Clay's Breakdown)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay overhears.

"With you? I think I'm okay with different."

Clay's stream has only just ended, and Nick's words come clearly through the thin door the older streamer stands in front of, hand raised as though to knock before he hears the closing words of the conversation.

"I'll talk to you later, Karl.... my boyfriend."

There's a new smile in Nick's voice, and it sinks Clay's heart into his stomach. The feeling throws him for a loop, and he stares at the hand he was about to knock with, instead leaning on the wall next to the door, back of his shirt rucked up against the rough material.

He knows how Nick's felt lately, the anxiety and fear bubbling in his chest like some fictional witch's cauldron. Instead of a potion, though, it only turns to tears that well in green eyes, forcing him to swipe at them with the heels of rough hands.

The motion only summons more tears, and Clay almost chokes on the welling of emotion suddenly in his throat, pushing himself off wall and carpet and making his way to his bedroom instead, separate from his streaming room and between that and the room Nick's currently in.

_ Fuck. _

_ Nick. _

"Nick." He chokes on the other's name, honey and glass, the burning, acrid taste of bile in the back of his throat.

As the bad feelings rise, so do the good: The way Nick's laugh feels like a hurricane in his stomach, the way amber eyes shone like gems in the sunlight not a day ago. Nick's skin slightly rough against his own, the smell of apples and earth that wrapped Clay up from their first hug.

The dreams come to mind: chapped lips pressed together, sharing the taste of coffee and tea. Hands linked, heads on shoulders. Wrapping up together on the couch, sharing a movie, curling up against each other in one bed.

The same bed he's sat on now, shaking, one knee pulled up to a thin chest, staring blankly at his carpet.

Normally, the green in his room would comfort him. Today, it makes him feel even sicker, the shades swimming in his vision, green like jealousy taking hold in his eyes and making him listen as Nick's voice softly pants, whimpering the name of the other man who holds his heart.

A whine of "Karl..." comes through the wall, and Clay swallows back fury. It should be  _ him _ Nick is whimpering for,  _ his  _ name falling past cherry-pink, kiss-swollen lips.

He should go in there, some part of him thinks. Kiss Nick senseless until those noises are his to swallow.  _ He's _ earned them, Karl hasn't, why is Clay the one being tortured with this?

He moves to lean against the wall connecting their rooms.

Nick's voice is the only thing he hears besides his own heartbeat.

His world is consumed with a soft Southern drawl, honey-amber eyes, and a bright smile.

The tears keep falling.

How is he going to make it through this month alive?


	8. I Need To Know (Or: Trying)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying might be easier than it seems.

The jealous part of Clay wins over after a few long moments of deliberation, angrily wiping tears from his eyes and pushing himself off the wall, storming to Nick's room, pushing the door open with just a little too much force.

His best friend is stretched out in bed, shirtless and lazy-looking, his eyes glassy as he watches the older creator climb onto his bed.

"Clay, what... what are you doing?"

"You should be  _ mine _ ." Clay breathes out, and he hovers over Nick, eyes searching his before he presses them together, lips connecting and sending a wave of sweet relief over the Floridian.

Nick doesn't have the brainpower to freeze or to push Clay off of his chest. Instead, he melts into the kiss, hand tangling in the elder's hair as they part. His breath is still caught in his throat, voice cracking as he speaks.

"I... I'm dating Karl, Clay."

"I know, but you should be with  _ me. I _ earned those noises."

"You heard me?"

"Of course I heard you. If you want me to go, let go of my hair."

Nick's hand slides to the back of Clay's head, gently pulling him in for another kiss, this one sweet and soft. "I did tell him I like both of you." He breathes, and Clay's fury turns to a tiny smile, his nose brushing Nick's softly.

"Then be with us both."

"I'd have to tell Karl... tell him you came to your fucking senses."

A small laugh from Nick's throat, more a huff of breath than anything else, and Clay giggles quietly along.

"I've hidden this since I was like sixteen, Panda."

Nick laughs again, moving to push Clay off of him. "Move, fucker, you're heavy," he snickers, throwing the blankets to cover Clay's eyes as he pulls his boxers and shorts back on, making sure to quickly clean himself before he climbs back onto the bed, pulling the blankets away and leaning on the elder's shoulder.

"You know you could've told me way earlier, right? I've had a crush on you for like two years now." 

"Yeah, but I guess I just wanted to prove you wanted me first. My brain's stupid, Nicky, we know this."

"You're gonna have to be the one to talk to Karl after I text him, I want you to know that."

"Fuck."

Nick laughs quietly, grabbing his phone from the bedside and shooting a text to his new partner.

[So. Clay did the thing I wanted him to do, but now I need to discuss it with you and make sure you're seriously okay with it and all that shit. I know you said you were on the phone earlier but now that it's looking like it could be real, I want to double-check.]

His phone rings instantly.

"It's okay, Nick." Karl smiles from the other side. "I told you it was alright, but I appreciate you asking me. Put me on the line with Clay, okay?"

Nick nods, holding the cell phone out with a teasing smile.

"It's for you, dude."


	9. Wait A Minute (Or: Conversation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation between Clay and Karl holds some interesting secrets.

"It's for you, dude."

Clay swallows hard, making a playful gulping noise before he takes the phone. Nick's head rests sweetly on his shoulder.

"You finally told him?" Karl's voice is sweeter than honey over the line, and Clay smiles, nodding even though the eldest can't see it.

"Yeah... surprisingly, because of you."

"Because of me?" The confusion in Karl's voice makes the Floridian give a low chuckle.

"Nick was... having some time to himself," Clay snickers, trying to be delicate for now. This was a new situation for everyone, and he wants to keep everyone comfortable right now.

Karl seems concerned, but then he gives his signature innocent giggle, and the blush is clear in his voice.

"You caught him doing that? And th-that's what made you kiss him?"

Nick smiles at the sound of his boyfriend's voice, sweet and shuddery. Clay nods, a laugh in his tone as he kisses Nick's hair before speaking. "Yeah, I got kinda jealous because I'm a dumbass, and I stormed into his room and kissed him before he could explain anything further."

"That's a heck of a way to tell your best friend you like him."

"That's the thing. I don't like him... I'm in love with him."

The line goes silent, and Nick's head moves from Clay's shoulder so he can stare, honey-amber eyes wide, at the other streamer.

"You love me?" He mouths, and at the same time, Karl gives a little cough.

"You've had more time to fall in love with him, I kinda get it."

The eldest of the three cradles his phone between his cheek and a sharp, thin shoulder as he moves around his house, little noises indicating that he's not sat down any longer.

"Sorry for the noise, I figured I should make food. Keep talking, Clay."

Clay nods gently. "I fell in love with Nick when I was sixteen, yknow? When we were still kids, I was still figuring myself out and I thought he'd figured himself out already."

"That's so honking cute." Karl smiles over the line, and Nick cocks an eyebrow.

"You're the first person to draw an entire dick, but you won't say fuck? Baby boy, what even is your moral compass?"

Clay snickers and Karl whines playfully down the phone.

"I just don't like to swear!" He protests, and Nick's face flames pink as he speaks next.

"I can always make you swear later, cutie. I'm gonna make out with Clay while you finish your conversation with him, okay?"

"O-okay, just be nice!"

Clay's voice hitches, Nick's mouth instantly at his neck.

"Karl, help, he's not being nice."

"I never said I was gonna be  _ nice, _ " Nick's voice is now a low growl, rumbling against Clay's skin like a Florida storm, and he gasps as he struggles to speak.

"Karl, I think I should just text you about this, our boyfriend is being an asshole."

"I mean, at least he's not actually hurting you?" A smile in Karl's voice. "Be safe, boys. Call me back later."


	10. Be Mine Tonight (Or: Finally)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter will contain NSFW material. It is not required to understand the story, if you wish to skip this chapter for your own comfort, please do so.)
> 
> Clay and Nick have some time together.

The moment Clay hangs up, he's being caged in against the bed by Nick's shorter body and strong arms. The younger creator's lips are still against his neck, pressing soft, closed-mouth kisses to the thin skin, smiling slyly when he feels Clay's heartbeat jump with every kiss and warm breath fanned over skin and nerves. 

Clay pushes Nick away gently, a shaky smile on his lips.

"Panda... how far are you willing to go with this?" He murmurs, moving so their hands are linked, fingers entangled, studying his friend with eager eyes.

"I'm willing to go pretty far." Nick breathes, and he pulls Clay closer again by their linked hands, lips crushing together, the younger shifting to wrap his arms around the back of the blond's neck, attempting to push him back into the bed again when Clay's competitive nature kicks in, and he leverages his height over Nick to pin the younger creator down, lips on his neck in an instant, slightly-sharp teeth bared against thin skin.

"You're not getting away that easily, Sappy." Clay coos, voice honeyed and sticky, trapping Nick in its tones.

Nick shudders, and Clay's hands move to pin the other's wrists over his head. "Be good for me, Nicky, and I'll be good to you."

Clay's voice is a purr at this point, eyes dark and hunter-green compared to their normal bottle-green shade. His teeth scratch Nick's skin, and the youngest creator shivers, brown eyes going glassy as his lip is quickly caught in his teeth.

"Fuck... Clay..." He breathes out, body arching against his friend's, their shirts both rucked up so burning skin touches skin. One of Clay's hands moves down, pushing Nick's shirt up slowly, fingers teasing over soft skin, nails catching and dragging pink trails to prove where he's been, eyes roaming every new expanse revealed.

"You look so  _ beautiful _ like this, Nick. You're so warm and soft underneath me."

Nick's breath shudders, Clay's lips teasing downwards, hands over his head by his own volition now as the elder kisses and nips at his stomach and hipbones, leaving small bruises and pink bites blooming on paler skin.

"You look so pretty when you're mine."

Nick whines, his body still chasing Clay's every touch, every brush of fingers as the older brushes along his hipbones, fingers teasing the faint lines of muscle and digging short nails into soft skin, eliciting whines and groans from the younger man, Nick's glossed-over eyes rolling back just the smallest bit when Clay sits up, breaking all contact.

"Why are you sitting up?"

"You're getting way too into this, way too fast." Clay teases, and he strips off his shirt, settling at Nick's side so their skin is pressed together.

"Maybe we just let you calm down a little."

Nick whimpers, but complies, curling up to Clay's side and kissing the taller creator's forehead softly. "I get it. I'm just really touch starved, and you and Karl are giving me the affection I've been needing... I can wait."


	11. Guess I'm A Little Bit Shy (Or: Karl)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl comes out.

The phone is hung up, and it's slipped into the back pocket of skinny jeans, slim fingers picking up the pen on the counter and absentmindedly chewing on the end of it, the plastic sour on his tongue but soothing at the same time.

He's been cooking absentmindedly while Clay and Nick talk to him, and now that he's alone with his thoughts, the mindless chewing of the pen calms his anxious nature.

It hits him as he cleans up from his meal: Nick is his boyfriend now. So is Clay, if he read that conversation correctly.

As he's putting the last dishes away, his phone rings: Jimmy's changed his ringtone, yet again, this time to some shitty country song. A part of his brain recognizes it: 'God, Your Mama, and Me'. It'd been on Nick's stream a few nights ago, soft in the background.

"What do you  _ want _ , Jimmy."

"You need to get dressed, big guy, we're on the way to come get you before we head to the store."

"What store are we buying out this time? Bold of you to assume I'm undressed, Jimmy Beast." He forces a small laugh, mind still reeling a little from the conversation not ten minutes prior.

"We just need cereal. Put your shoes on and stop jerking off."

Karl chokes on the sip of Monster he was taking, coughing softly as he pulls the phone away from his face. "JIMMY!" He squeaks, pounding a fist on his chest to rid his lungs of carbonation. "I w-wasn't doing that!"

"Methinks the man doth protest too much," Jimmy coos down the line, laughing in that way of his that's always pushed Karl just a little too far.

"If I was jerking off, it wouldn't be to you anyway," Karl murmurs, and immediately his face flames, eyes going wide at what he's just said. He needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

Jimmy cackles, unbothered, and informs him they're ten minutes away.

The drive to the store from his own home isn't very long, another twenty minutes at most, and Jimmy uncharacteristically pulls him to one side as they all pile out of the car, the other men laughing and shoving each other like overgrown kids.

They  _ are _ all overgrown kids.

Jimmy's voice is soft, hand kind on Karl's shoulder as he speaks.

"Did my joke bother you? Earlier?" He murmurs, and Karl simply shakes his head.

"I was just in my head I guess, my boyfriends were being stupid and I hadn't wrapped myself around it yet."

"Boyfriends?" Jimmy's grin nearly splits his face. 

"Shut your entire mom, Jimmy," Karl mutters, his face pinker than usual as he glances down at beat-up Converse.

"Well, tell me about them! Can't say I expected boyfriends  _ plural _ , though."

"Nick." The word drops quietly from Karl's lips, silken and soft, the tangy taste of love on the back of his tongue.

"Nick and Clay."

"You mean... the kids on the SMP? Sapnap and Dream?"

"Yeah... yeah. Them. Nick and Clay."


	12. Shut Up And Drive (Or: Private)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Karl needs some time alone.  
> (This chapter is pure, self-indulgent Karl-smut. Not needed for the story, feel free to skip it.)

The temperature has fallen by the time Karl is dropped back off at home, and he doesn't bother doing more than raising a hand in a silent goodbye to Jimmy and the boys, locking his front door behind him and sagging against it.

He's  _ tired.  _ Down to his bones tired.

He barely can be convinced to check his phone, but he's suddenly glad he does: Two texts await him.

Both are from Clay.

The first loads slowly, a photo: Bruises, scratches, and bite marks on tan skin. Nick's head pillowed lazily on the scratched-up chest, presumably Clay's.

Goddamn, his boyfriends are hot.

The second message is simply text: "Our boyfriend is way too good in bed."

The words and image run through Karl's bloodstream, setting his chest on fire. It spreads to his cheeks, turning him his signature shy pink as he heads upstairs to his room. His hoodie is pulled off, and he moves to start the shower as the fire moves from his chest to his stomach, swirling lower and hotter.

In his mind, he can hear Nick's soft Southern drawl, gasping out Clay's name as the blond bites and sucks at his collarbones.

His jeans are stripped off and puddled on the bathroom floor with his boxers.

He imagines Clay snarling Nick's name, short nails clawing his chest.

He steps into the warm water, sighing as it hits the phantom nail marks he wishes decorated his own pale, soft skin. Fingers press imagined bruises, brush against his hipbones.

In his mind, the hand in his hair in Clay's. The one around him? That's Nick, giving a gentle squeeze before he strokes slowly, teasing and testing.

A low groan leaves his lips. He can almost feel two pairs of lips on his body, skirting the sore spots from today's filming, the bruises constantly on his ribs from tight hugs, being elbowed in the side or tossed behind someone else.

Those bruises translate in his mind, from pain to pleasure, where Nick's fingers might dig in to hold him still with a snarl of "calm down, baby boy", or Clay's sharp, straight teeth digging into a hip to make him squeak.

The noise echoes in the shower, hot water causing his already-flushed body to redden further.

He can hear the teasing his boys would give, little jabs towards each other ("Nick you should  _ taste _ his skin...." "I would if you'd move, jackass.") and towards him ("God, Jacobs, if I'd known you were this worked up I'd have gotten you off your stream faster.")

His hand moves faster, head tipping back against the cold tile of the shower, eyes fluttering closed and rolling back.

His voice, soft and barely-broken, gasps the two names rolling on his tongue so often lately.

He's briefly glad that shower tiles are almost always white, and that he lives alone.

His muscles go loose and warm, but the fire still lives in his stomach, now reduced to embers and sparks as his phone rings.

Nick is calling him.


	13. Light A Match, Stand Back (Or: Discussions)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a short, sweet chat.

Quickly, Karl pulls himself out of the shower, wrapped in his favorite purple towel, soft and fluffy and warm.

Hands dry, he answers Nick's Facetime call, making sure to keep his camera pointed at the ceiling for now.

Nick's laugh makes him melt, even when it comes through the slightly tinny iPhone speakers.

"Jacobs, you can show us your face, yknow. We've seen it before," Nick teases, and Clay gives a low, sleepy laugh behind him. Both his boys look exhausted in the best way, eyes still shining with the afterglow and a little hazy with what could be a lack of sleep. They're streamers, after all, no one sleeps on a normal schedule.

Their laughs combined seem to fuel the sparks in Karl's stomach, sending them spiraling through his blood once more.

"I just got out of the shower!" He protests, and he watches as Clay's green eyes go from hazy to alert, shine softening as he tries to peer at Nick's phone.

The flush comes to his cheeks again, and he tosses the phone on his bed, listening to Nick's joking squeal as the camera's image spins and reveals nothing but more ceiling, his soft giggle bubbling up as he moves to get dressed.

"How are you two?" He coos gently, peering into the camera with soft, clear eyes. Clay's green eyes smile back at him first, then Nick's gentle brown gaze comes into view as well.

He can't help the smile on his face.

"You two are so beautiful," Karl whispers, and he settles on his bed, legs crossed as he grabs his phone to talk quietly with his boys.

Their conversation ends up lasting nearly four hours, between soft words and softer smiles, loud laughs at bad jokes, and Karl's heart stuttering every time one of them speaks.

He supposes he should just say it, at this point.

"I think I'm in love with you."

The words are breathed out after a loud giggle, and both men on the other end of the call pause, turning to look at each other with little matching smirks, speaking in unison.

"Which one?"

"Both of you!"

He sees Clay's eyes light up first, smiling at the fact that the person who plays someone so stoic and reserved shows such emotion in his normally-hidden eyes. "You're beautiful, Clay," He grins, watching the other creator move to wrap around the man they both love so much.

Karl's grin widens as he watches Nick snuggle into Clay's chest. "I wanna be there with both of you." He sighs with a touch of sadness in his normally-cheery voice.

"Then come to us," Nick murmurs, chewing a little nervously on his lower lip. "Clay and I will pay for it, we discussed it earlier today... you can stay in my room."

Clay agrees with a soft noise, and Karl swallows hard. He's been wanting to meet Nick anyway, and to be able to meet him in this capacity?

He's more than ready.

"When do I fly out?"


End file.
